


Each Finger, A Ray Of Light

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Crying, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Kissing, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Rimming, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 09:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15771336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Shane Madej had not slept in four days.





	Each Finger, A Ray Of Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beethechange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beethechange/gifts).



Shane Madej had not slept in four days.

That was a pretty rational sentence, right?

It made sense.

It had a verb, it had a noun - it even had a _proper_ noun, and you had to admire something with a proper noun, right?

He was going in circles in his own head.

He was so damn tired - he was aware of his own skin.

How did you become aware of your own skin?

But putting it into that order - “Shane Madej had not slept in four days” - it seemed so much more rational than it was, didn’t it?

It didn’t seem to encompass lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

It didn’t encompass the restless shifting, the bed that was too hot, too cold, the blankets that weighed down on him like lead, the light blinking in his alarm clock, as the time counted first down, then up. 

There was some shame mixed into all of this - he should have been able to sleep, he was a grown ass adult, like what the hell, man?

But he was so tired.

He was so tired, and then he’d fall asleep, and he’d get startled out of his sleep by another nightmare, and then it would be maybe half an hour later, and the nightmares were bad enough that… well, staring at the clock was almost preferable.

He was aware, faintly, that he looked like a zombie.

He was also aware that he probably needed to take some kind of over the counter sleeping pill, knock himself out, and just… sleep it off.

But the nightmares were… bad.

They were very bad.

They were a kind of skin shrinkingly horrible that sleeping was almost as unthinkable as staying awake.

So it was just… unpleasant. 

It was all unpleasant.

It was the kind of unpleasant that was downright… chilling, because it was just eating him alive. 

How was he supposed to talk about this? 

“Hey, I’m a grown ass adult, but I just can’t fucking sleep.”

Like… how did that even work?

Sleep was so goddamn complicated, wasn’t it? 

You just… lay down, and you slept.

It just happened. 

It was a basic fucking bodily instinct, and Shane couldn’t even do it.

For fuck sake. 

He sat at work, staring at the same fucking line on his screen, blinking at him.

“Shane?”

He jumped, and he did what was probably a comedic double take.

“Ryan?”

“Dude,” said Ryan, and he looked faintly worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Shane, and he yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, I just… haven’t been sleeping well.”

“No? What’s been bothering you?”

“Why does something have to be bothering me, Ryan? Maybe I just don’t want to sleep. Did you think of that?!”

… huh.

Shane was snapping.

He didn’t realize he had it in him to be this snappy. 

Well, no, he’d been snappy as, like, an obnoxious teenager, but… still. 

Ryan’s face did… something.

“Sorry, man,” said Ryan, and then he was… going back to his desk, and sliding his headphones back over his ears.

Shit.

Shane was a total shit.

He sighed, and he covered his face with both hands.

Okay.

He was being a total dildo.

He could fix this.

He _would_ fix this.

Just… later.

* * *

Ryan still had his headphones in and his eyes trained on the screen, when Shane was ready to head home.

Shane was tempted to maybe tap him on the shoulder and apologize, but… no.

That would be awkward.

God forbid Shane Medej be awkward.

… okay, so he was awkward most of the time, but still.

He was too fuzzy headed to work things out, and he didn’t want to fuck up his apology.

* * *

Shane went to the liquor store, and he bought whiskey.

If he drank enough whiskey, he wouldn’t dream, right?

He could at the very least hope so.

He drank his whiskey, sitting on his couch, and he watched a dumb movie, picking at his dinner of leftover Chinese food.

He was… tired.

He was tired in his bones, and he couldn’t seem to let himself get to sleep.

He even went to bed early, draining his mug, and he lay flat on his back, staring at his ceiling, and tried to convince himself to fall asleep.

It didn’t work, because those types of things never do, but at least an attempt was made.

* * * 

Shane dreamed. 

_There was something sitting on his chest, weighing him down like a bag of cement, something big and hairy, and it stared into his face with a face that had no eyes, and there was an obstruction in his throat, and a great, gnawing hunger in his gut, a wanting, a desperation that was eating him alive, filling his whole everything with… something, but he was going to die, he was going to be eaten alive from within, he would die starving and desperate, hungry for air, hungry for…._

* * *

Shane woke up, clawing at his throat.

His stomach growled, and he glared at it.

_Really?_

He glared at the clock, and he pressed the heels of his hands against his face.

Okay.

No. 

No, that… he wasn’t going to put up with that.

He pressed his hands against his throat, holding on to it - in the dream, the thing had been bulging out, but… no, no, it was just him, by himself, his own body.

He was hungry, chew his own arm off hungry, and he shouldn’t have been eating this late, but… god, he was….

He held his hand out, looking at the way it shook, and he tried to catch his breath.

The dream hadn’t even been that… weird.

That horrific?

So why was he so damn unsettled? 

He needed to not have another nightmare like that.

He needed… he needed coffee.

* * * 

Shane sat up in his kitchen, drinking coffee and watching cat videos on his phone.

He was shaking, just a bit, even as the sun came up, turning the light a watery grey, and then its actual color.

He sighed, leaning back into his seat, as the bright light hit his face, and he groaned.

Okay.

This wasn’t workable.

He’d… he’d buy some over the counter sleeping pills or something.

All of the coffee was making his hands shake, but he at least felt a bit less like warmed over garbage.

He just had to get through the day.

Then he’d get the pills, he’d come home, and he’d sleep, regardless of how unsettling his nightmares were.

Why was he even having nightmares in the first place?

It’s what he got, for being such a jerk to Ryan.

Shane’s stomach twisted around the coffee, and he sighed, pressing his face into his hand.

Oh god.

No, the nightmares were before that.

Was he… was he, like, dealing with some sort of crisis of faith?

Did he even have any faith to begin with, other than the universal constants, like the world going round the sun and things like that. 

He tried to think of whatever great upheaval, and... hm.

He tried to think of the first night he couldn’t sleep - what had he been thinking about?

Work, and the new network, which was, admittedly, anxiety inducing, but plenty of things in life were anxiety inducing. 

The state of the world?

… it had been long enough that the losing sleep seemed a bit dumb at this point.

So what was the… catalyst? The metaphorical straw that broke the aforementioned metaphorical camel’s back, thus keeping him awake. 

… Ryan.

He had been thinking about Ryan, he had been thinking about Ryan talking about… what, having a boyfriend?

No, Ryan had broken up with a boyfriend.

It hadn’t even been a very deep conversation - Ryan had mentioned that he’d broken up with a boyfriend - _”Not much of a boyfriend, really, it’s only been, like, two months”_ \- and then Shane had... stuttered out something or other, and changed the subject rather abruptly. 

Then he’d forgotten it, possibly out of self defense. 

Only apparently not. 

Shane groaned, kept his face in his hands.

Oh god.

Okay.

Was he having a freak out that his best friend was not straight?

How had he… forgotten that?

He usually had a decent memory for this kind of shit - he knew his own interior pretty well. 

… shit, was that why Ryan was so shifty with him?

Did Ryan think he was some kind of homophobe?

Oh _god_. 

Shane groaned, and he ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end.

He was exhausted, he was jittery, he was an utter cunt… what was he going to do? 

“I am not having homophobia induced insomnia,” Shana groaned, and he pressed his face into the table.

Oh god.

No.

He straight up _refused_ to be that kinda jerk.

… fuck it.

Shane texted Ryan.

_Sorry I was a dildo. Being tired makes me a cunt, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you_

He wasn’t expecting an answer - it was early enough that Ryan was probably still asleep.

But when he came back from his shower, his hair wet, a towel around his waist, his phone was blinking at him.

_I figured._

_But thanks big guy._

_You catch any zzz last night?_

Shane grinned a bit at his phone.

_Why are you awake right now?_

_I cna wake up early osmeitmes_

Shane snorted.

_I’m the sleep deprived one. Why are you typoing so much?_

_Oh, shut up. We can’t all be perfect like you._

Shane full on cackled, an ugly laugh, and he yawned.

It was all going to be okay. 

He’d even get to sleep tonight.

He could tell. 

* * * 

Ryan grinned at Shane, and his expression looked only a little strained at the edges.

“We can’t both be sleep deprived,” said Shane, and he yawned so widely that his jaw cracked. “It’s my schtick.”

“Sorry,” said Ryan. “I’m not too tired, don’t worry. Although… are you sure you should have come in?”

“I’m fine,” said Shane, and he tried not to snap.

He was… a bit too irritable, still.

“I have coffee,” said Ryan, and he handed Shane a mug.

Shane took a slug of the coffee, and let the caffeine slowly work its way into his system.

Okay.

He could do this.

* * * 

Shane started flagging around one in the afternoon. 

He didn’t even realize he was falling asleep, until a hand on his shoulder made him jerk awake.

“You okay, big guy?”

Ryan was shooting him a worried look.

“I’m fine,” said Shane. “Editing.”

“You look like a zombie,” said Ryan. “You should have a nap.”

“Nap?”

“We’ve got an empty office couch, you could have a nap on it.”

“I’m not gonna lie in a darkened office by myself with my ankles dangling off of some couch -”

“I’ll keep you company,” said Ryan, unexpectedly.

“What?”

Shane paused, mid-tirade.

“I’ll keep you company,” Ryan said. “I’ll sit with you, if you want. You can nap, I’ll eat my lunch.”

“Everyone will think we’re fucking.”

Ryan looked sidelong at Shane, and Ryan realized, too late, that it was probably sticking his foot in his mouth.

“Not that there’d be anything wrong with that. I’d be okay with people thinking that… thinking that we’re having sex. Just, uh, maybe not at work for obvious -”

“You’re gonna sprain something bending over backwards to show how un-homophobic you are,” Ryan said, his tone dry. 

Shane was blushing now - was all of this insomnia bullshit due to that in the first place?

… possibly. 

Oh god.

“Your face right now,” said Ryan, and he looked faintly amused.

“What’s it doing?”

“You look like a deer in the headlights,” said Ryan. 

“It’s been… what, five days?” 

“Jesus, you should be actively hallucinating at this point,” said Ryan.

“I’m getting, like, an hour or two,” said Shane, and he yawned again. “Just… the… the dreams are bad.”

“Are they?” 

Now Ryan looked interested.

“I’m _not_ being haunted or whatever the fuck you’re gonna suggest,” Shane grumbled.

“Regardless,” said Ryan, “go sleep. I’ll wake you up if you have a nightmare, okay?”

“... okay,” said Shane, because exhaustion was beginning to eat at his very bones. 

* * *

The couch was too small, but Shane had expected that.

He lay flat his back, an arm over his eyes, as Ryan sat at the desk.

Ryan was chewing, and he it was… it was quiet.

It was one of the few places in the Buzzfeed offices that had closed doors, and fuck, it was… nice.

It was quiet.

Ryan was clicking at his phone, and he was chewing quietly.

Shane let his eyes slide shut, and he slid down into the dark pit of sleep.

* * *

Shane… woke up.

Full on woke up.

No nightmare.

No nothing.

He was still exhausted - the tiredness was dragging at him, leaving him a zombie, but it was… it wasn’t the same.

“Hey big guy,” said Ryan. “I was just about to wake you up.” 

“How long was I out for?”

“I let you sleep for about two hours,” said Ryan. 

He had his laptop in front of him now, and was tapping away.

“Two hours? Ryan, why’d you let me sleep that long?!”

“You looked like you needed it, honestly,” said Ryan, and now he was shooting Shane a slightly worried look. “I’ve never seen you sleep that hard.”

“Sleep that… hard?”

“You weren’t moving, you weren’t snoring, you weren’t… well, anything.”

Shane raised an eyebrow.

“When you say it like that, you sound creepy,” he said, and he sat up, unfolding like a lawn chair and stretching, his back making interesting noises. 

“Hmm?”

“Like you’ve been watching me sleep,” said Shane. 

“I mean,” said Ryan, and he was grinning, “how many nights have we spent together in some haunted location where you’re knocked the fuck out and I’m still awake?”

“I didn’t think I actually got any sleep when we did that,” said Shane, and he stretched again, rubbing his eyes. “What with you waking me up every hour or so.”

Ryan stuck his tongue out at Shane, and Shane… flushed, looking down at his feet.

“I got you a sandwich,” Ryan said, indicating the plate on the desk. 

There was, indeed, a sandwich there, wrapped in paper.

“Thanks,” said Shane, and he scooted a chair closer, so he could eat. 

“Of course,” said Ryan. “What else am I gonna do, let you starve?”

“Aren’t you sweet,” Shane said, and he put some simper into his voice.

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“There aren’t a lot of things I wouldn’t do for you, big guy,” Ryan said, and his expression was… there was something interesting about his expression.

Shane wasn’t sure if he could read it. 

Hmm.

“Thanks,” Shane said, utterly ruining the moment with actual sincerity. 

Ryan smiled at him, and he was blushing, just a bit. 

Shane took a bite of his sandwich.

It was cold, but still pretty good.

* * * 

Shane went back to his desk refreshed - who knew he’d feel so much better?

He stopped at a pharmacy on the way home, and bought a bottle of sleeping pills.

He ordered dinner, took a pill, and then went to bed.

He was going to sleep.

He was going to sleep the sleep of the dead.

* * *

Shane lay in bed, dizzy, drowsy, but awake.

He’d close his eyes, and he’d drift for a few minutes, and then jolt back to consciousness.

The exhaustion in his whole self was making him shake, and he clung to himself in some vain hope.

He was so tired.

He slept for maybe fifteen minutes, and the nightmare that ripped through him was bad enough that he woke up sweating, biting back the need to scream. 

In a fit of desperation, he reached for his phone.

* * *

“Shane? Is someone, like, dying?”

Ryan was on the other end of the line, and his voice was rough with sleep. 

“I can’t sleep,” Shane said, and his voice cracked. 

“Didn’t you get pills?”

“I did, and they’re not _working_ ,” Shane said.

God, his voice was hitching up.

Fuck.

“Is there… you shouldn’t drink booze, maybe… have some tea?”

“I don’t think I have tea,” said Shane.

He was wrapping his arms around his legs, his chin on his knees. 

“Do you… what can I do for you, Shane?”

Ryan sounded exhausted.

“... can you come here? Can you… I slept better, with you there. I can’t exactly, uh… I can’t go back to the office to sleep, obviously, but… please.”

“I’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes, big guy,” said Ryan. “Although, uh… can you stay up until I’m there? Unless you fall asleep for good, in which case, I’ll just, uh… go back home.”

“I’ve got a spare key,” said Shane, “under the fake rock, by the daisies. Just… come in, sleep on my couch, I’ll get you lunch or something, make you breakfast….” 

“Of course. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Thank you,’ said Shane, and he was almost about to start crying, because… fuck.

This was just pathetic. 

* * * 

Shane sat on his couch in his pajamas, and his head was chasing itself in circles.

God, was he going to turn Ryan into some kind of… what was it?

This was almost like the story of David and Saul, and Shane was grinning a bit in spite of himself, as there was a knock on the door.

“Did you bring your guitar?”

Ryan, a backpack over his shoulder, looking faintly confused, eyed Shane.

“Did you want me to? It’s a little late for that.”

“... I mean, you don’t look like a harp player,” said Shane.

“... right,” said Ryan. 

He was looking at Shane, his expression confused and more than a bit confused. 

Shane was swaying, just a little bit.

Ryan put a hand on Shane’s shoulder, and guided Shane towards the couch.

“So I stopped by the twenty four hour grocery store,” Ryan said, and he closed and locked the door, as he locked the door behind him. “I got you some sleepy time tea. And… I emailed work. We’re both gonna stay home tomorrow.”

Shane squinted at Ryan, who looked… resolute, his jaw set. 

“Why?”

“Because we’re gonna figure out what the fuck is wrong with your head that won’t let you sleep, or, failing that, you can just pay back your sleep debt a bit.”

“Right,” said Shane.

Everything was fuzzy.

“So you stay there, I’m gonna make you some tea,” said Ryan.

“Do you know where everything is?”

“I’ve been here before,” said Ryan, and he patted Shane on the shoulder.

Shane sighed, a long, drawn out sigh, and he leaned back against the couch. 

“I don’t know why I can’t sleep,” Shane said, to the air at large. 

Ryan was making various bustling noises in the kitchen. 

“You think you might be stressed?”

There was the “thunk” of the tea kettle being put on the burner, and then the little “click” of the stove being turned on. 

“I mean, who isn’t stressed,” said Shane. “Especially when the world is… what it is.”

“Right,” said Ryan. 

“... can I ask you a question?”

“Mmm?”

Ryan was opening the fridge, and then he had a plate, with a piece of bread and some peanut butter on it.

He shoved it at Shane. 

“Mm?”

Shane stared down at it.

“You’ll feel better for it,” Ryan said.

“Right,” said Shane, and he ate it, mechanically.

“So what was your question?”

“Mmm?”

“You had a question,” said Ryan, as patient as the grave.

Shane chewed.

“I… don’t entirely remember it,” said Shane. 

“Gotcha,” said Ryan, and he patted Shane on the top of the head, as the tea kettle began to whistle. “You’re gonna drink your tea, and then you’re gonna go to bed. Okay?”

“... will you stay with me?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. 

“No,” said Shane. “Like… in the bedroom. With me.”

“Oh,” said Ryan. “Uh… if you want to. Want me to.”

“Sorry,” said Shane. “I’m… I’m asking for too much.”

“Nah,” said Ryan. “It’s fine. It won’t be the first time.”

Shane sighed, and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” said Shane.

“Why are you sorry?”

Ryan came in, with his own plate of bread and peanut butter in one hand, a mug of tea in the other. 

It was the Bigfoot mug that Ryan had bought Shane as a gift. 

“I don’t fucking know,” said Shane. “Because this is getting goddamn biblical.”

“Biblical?”

“Y’know,” said Shane, as he took a sip of his tea.

It tasted like herbs and like green. 

He swallowed it down, and it was hot in his belly. 

“Not really, no,” said Ryan.

“Didn’t you have the proper religious upbringing?”

“I mean, yeah, but still,” said Ryan. “I don’t know what’s going through your head when it’s working at full capacity, let alone when you’ve had maybe three hours of sleep altogether.”

Shane snorted.

“Fair point,” Shane said. “It’s… what do you call it. Thing. David. David and Saul.”

“Mm?”

Shane took another sip of his tea.

He was getting drowsy again - none of that restless energy, pulling at his limbs. 

“He sang to Saul, to help him sleep. And then it got… y’know, weird. It….”

Shane yawned, finished his tea.

“And you want me to sleep in your bed?”

“Yeah,” said Shane. 

“Even though….” Ryan took a deep breath. “Even though you know I like guys?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, you know… it can make people… cagey.”

“I know you’re not gonna grope me in my sleep or anything,” said Shane, and he yawned.

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if I want to take that as a compliment or not,” said Ryan.

“Take it as a compliment,” said Shane, and then…, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” said Ryan. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

There was a strange intimacy to getting into bed with Ryan. 

Ryan was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a sleeveless t-shirt, and his skin practically glowed in the streetlights behind the curtains. 

He lay under his covers, and there was enough space that they weren’t touching, but he was… keenly aware of Ryan.

He was keenly aware of Ryan’s body heat.

And it was all just suddenly… too much.

Shane didn’t really realize he was crying until he was crying.

His nose was running, and his shoulders were shaking - he was trying to be as quiet as possible, but the two of them were together in the quiet room, and Shane had always been a loud crier.

“Shane?”

Ryan sat up - a shape in the darkness - and then he was pulling Shane to him, his hand on the back of Shane’s head, rocking Shane, his fingers in Shane’s hair.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Shane mumbled, and he was crying into Ryan’s shirt collar. “I was… I have… I don’t know what’s….”

“Sometimes, shit just happens,” said Ryan, and his tone was sympathetic.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Shane said again, and his voice cracked, as he cried harder.

It was… he didn’t know what it was, except it was feelings.

It was all the… something that had been bottled up in his chest, and he was clinging to Ryan’s shirt, his nose running, his eyes running.

… he had an erection, and that was… that was weird, it was gross, it was more than a little uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to worry about that right now. 

“What are you feeling right now?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Shane said, and it was practically a wail. “I want to… I don’t know. I need… I need something. I’m….”

And then Shane was kissing Ryan.

That… that wasn’t something he planned.

It wasn’t something that he’d ever have thought of, or even considered, but he was _so_ tired, so… fuzzy headed, that everything was just a mess.

Ryan pulled back, and he looked… confused.

“Shane?”

His voice was nervous.

“Sorry,” Shane said, and his voice cracked. “Fuck, I’m… I’m sorry.”

He made to pull away, but Ryan’s hands were on his shoulders.

“Shane,” Ryan said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. “Shane, you need to sleep. You’re delirious.”

“I’m….”

More crying.

“I’m not mad at you,” said Ryan, and his thumbs were circling at the base of Shane’s neck, and that was enough to make Shane start to relax. “I don’t want you to… I don’t want you to do anything you might regret, when your head isn’t clear.”

“I know this isn’t… this isn’t me being tired,” said Shane, and he meant it, oo.

All he wanted to do was kiss Ryan.

He wanted… he wanted things. 

He wanted… what the fuck did he want?

He wanted Ryan to be _here_ , and he wanted to sleep. 

“Can we… talk about this in the morning?”

Shane sniffled, and he rubbed his eyes, which were still damp. 

“Of course,” said Ryan, and he patted Shane on the leg.

It was… alarmingly close to Shane’s cock, which was still hard, held tightly in his pajama pants. 

It was throbbing like a tooth.

“And… no hard feelings,” said Ryan. “No matter what. Okay?”

“Okay,” Shane mumbled, and he wiped his nose.

“D’you need a glass of water, or something like that?”

“No,” Shane said, he sighed, leaning back into the bed. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” said Ryan. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep.”

He slid his hand into Shane’s, and he squeezed Shane’s fingers.

Shane squeezed Ryan’s fingers back.

* * * 

Ryan woke Shane up three times, in the midst of a nightmare.

He shook Shane’s shoulder, and then Shane would sit up, gasping, shaking, his forehead pressed against his knees. 

Then Ryan would make some sleepy joke, and Shane would lie back down, and close his eyes, one hand touching some bit of Ryan, and he’d fall back asleep.

And lo, he would _sleep_.

* * *

Shane woke up to an empty bed at one in the afternoon.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and he was… awake.

He was more than awake, his head was clear, his… everything was clear.

How about that?

He made his way into his kitchen, to find Ryan sitting at the table, typing on his laptop, eating a bowl of cereal.

“So you’re finally up,” said Ryan, and he looked… faintly nervous.

“Yeah,” said Shane.

Shane wanted to kiss Ryan.

He wanted to pretend he’d never kissed Ryan.

He wanted to… what did he want?

“How do you feel?”

“A lot less like the shambling dead,” said Ryan, and he grinned.

That looked genuine, at least.

“So,” said Shane, and rubbed his hands together, looking at his hands.

“Can I… can I just say something?”

Ryan looked faintly uncomfortable. 

“Of course,” said Shane.

“If you were… you know, loopy and wanting to experiment, I get that. Because now you know I’m queer, so you think it’s safe, and that’s fine. But I don’t… I’m not looking for that.”

Ryan’s eyes were on his cereal.

Shane was blushing, very hard. 

Oh god.

Ryan must think he’s some kind of asshole.

“And… I get that exhaustion can make you do weird shit. Especially as tired as you were. So I don’t hold it against you. Just… I’m not gonna be your practice run to see if you like dudes.”

“Right,” said Shane, and he kept his eyes on his hands. 

He didn’t know if he’d ever been this embarrassed.

“I’ll stay again tonight, if you need it,” said Ryan. 

“I don’t want you to, uh… I mean, after I’ve already made it awkward….”

Ryan shrugged, and he looked faintly amused.

“God knows I’ve kept you up often enough. You could consider this payback,” he told Shane.

Shane snorted.

“I feel like there’s some sort of argument, but I honestly can’t think of one.”

“Take it as a sign that I’m right,” Ryan said. “You want some cereal?”

“Sure,” said Shane, because what else was he going to say?

He’d really screwed the pooch on this one, hadn’t he?  
* * * 

“Why’d you ask me about my guitar last night?”

Shane and Ryan sat on Shane’s couch - each had a laptop on their lap, working on various work projects. 

“Oh,” said Shane, and he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Because, uh… you’re gonna laugh at this.”

Ryan shrugged. 

“This whole situation is kinda weird,” said Ryan. 

“I… I was thinking of David and Saul,” said Shane. 

“David and Saul?”

“Didn’t you go to church when you were a kid?”

They had talked about it the night before, but... well, it was all a blur. 

“They didn’t talk about David much,” said Ryan. 

“He was pretty neat. If he existed, I mean.”

“So what’s he got to do with anything?”

“Oh. So, uh, so Saul, he couldn’t sleep, so he’d ask for someone to come play music for him, and David ended up showing up. I don’t remember the specifics.”

“Right.”

“And then there was, y’know, the business with Goliath, which I think overshadows sleeping sleep aids. Even if said sleep aids are harp based.”

“Right,” said Ryan. “That makes sense.”

It was beginning to get dark out, or at least, as dark as it ever got in LA.

Shane’s heart was thudding in his chest, in his ears.

“But, uh, I didn’t mean the other subtext, despite… y’know, whatnot.”

“Whatnot? What other subtext?”

“David and Saul are sometimes portrayed as lovers, although it’s usually more often David and Jonathan.”

“Huh,” said Ryan. 

He looked… uncomfortable.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry,” said Shane, and he covered his face with both hands. 

He was gibbering in his head.

“It’s okay,” said Ryan, and he reached out to pat Shane on the shoulder. “I think you’re overthinking stuff. Have you thought about, uh… about going to a doctor?”

“I probably should,” Shane said, scrubbing his eyes and leaning back into the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“You wanna go Monday?”

“Why not tomorrow?”

“It’s Friday,” said Ryan. 

“... oh. When did that happen?”

“Presumably after Thursday,” said Ryan, and he laughed. 

There was an uneasy tension between the two of them. 

“... can I talk about it?”

Shane’s voice broke.

“What are we talking about?”

“About last night.”

“Which part of last night?”

“The part of last night when I kinda had a breakdown and cried on you a lot.”

“Oh.” Ryan leaned back as well, his hands behind his head. “I, uh, I assumed that would go by… what do you call it. It would go by Vegas rules.”

He looked anxious. 

“As much as that was an excellent marketing campaign,” Shane said, “life doesn’t really work like that.”

“We could have it work like that,” Ryan said.

His knuckles were very white, on the edge of his laptop.

“Do you want to… I mean… did I screw up?”

“Like I said,” Ryan said, and he sounded almost… measured, “just because you know I’m into guys doesn’t mean I’m into _you_. It also doesn’t mean I’m gonna be your… experiment. I get why it’s appealing to you, but… still.” 

“You get it?”

“I mean,” said Ryan, and he laughed, self conscious, “this is kinda how it works.” 

“Kinda how what works?”

“I tell a friend about how I’m queer, they go “oh, that’s cool,” and then they have a whole conversation about how they’ve always been curious about being with a dude, and....”

Ryan made a hand motion that Shane didn’t understand.

“And…?”

Shane’s heart was in his throat.

“And I just… I’ve done that dance too much,” said Ryan, and he looked… downright regretful. ”I don’t wanna do that with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like you,” Ryan said, surprisingly blunt. 

“What?”

“Because it gets awkward if you’re someone’s experiment, and I just… I don’t have it in me to do that. I like you too much to have to know that I’m your experiment.”

“Right,” said Shane, because that made sense.

But… ow. 

There was a pause, then; “what if I took you to dinner?”

“What?”

Ryan looked up at Shane, confused. 

“What if I took you to dinner,” said Shane. “Or… something else dateish. I dunno. What counts as dateish when it’s two guys. Should we go to a gay bar? Or, like, a Lakers game or something?”

“I mean, I won’t say no to a Lakers game,” said Ryan. “But… wait. Are you suggesting that you want to take me on a date?”

He looked vaguely discombobulated. 

“Yeah,” said Shane, and he was blushing. “That’s not an experiment thing, right?”

“I, uh… what?”

“Because… because experiments are just for trying a thing in the bedroom, and I’m… I’m officially saying I’ll take you on a date. In public. I will even hold your hand.”

“And what if we have, like, no chemistry? What if it’s weird?”

“It can’t be any weirder than any of the other shit that we’ve done,” said Shane. “We work at a job where we talk to the air, and I have literally eaten waterbugs on camera.”

“Right,” said Ryan. “So you want to go on a date with me?”

“I want to go on a date with you,” said Shane. “I’ll take you on a date. And… I want to do a bunch of other stuff with you.”

“What kind of other stuff?”

“Like… you know.”

“No, Shane. I don’t know.”

Ryan was looking… Shane wasn’t sure what Ryan was looking like, but it looked like a relative to “angry.”

“Can you tell me if you want to go on a date with me first?”

Shane was too sleep deprived for this.

He’d slept the night before, but… still.

Everything seemed to be moving through pudding, or maybe syrup.

“Tell me some of those things, and I’ll give you an answer,” said Ryan. 

“I’d like to… you know. Go on a date with you, at a restaurant. Maybe a movie. Some other… I dunno, date type stuff. I haven’t put a lot of thought into this. Do physical stuff with you,” said Shane. “I don’t know what kind of physical things, because… you know, I don’t know all the shit you can do with two dudes in regards to myself, Curly has told me in graphic detail about that, but the stuff with me, y’know, I am curious, but I also hadn’t really thought about it, but now I can’t stop thinking about. Because, uh, because it’s all weird, and I don’t entirely get it, but I’m not gonna question it -”

“Wow,” said Ryan. “I didn’t know you could ramble like that.”

“I can do anything I set my mind to,” said Shane. 

“Oh my god,” said Ryan. 

“Usually you’re the one who makes me say that,” said Shane. “How does it feel like to be on the other side.”

“I dunno,” said Ryan. “The Hot Daga does horrible, horrible things to me.”

“Well, yes,” said Shane, “but that’s different.”

“Is it?”

“I have to _work_ for that,” said Shane. “I don’t usually do it off the dome.”

“Amazing, considering how much dome there is.”

“I knew you were gonna say that,” Shane said. 

“Listen, I gotta follow my heart. And my heart makes fun of your head.”

“Does it want anything else?”

Shane’s heart was in his throat. 

“It wants a lot of things,” said Ryan, and he gave Shane an appraising look. 

“I wasn’t just kissing you because I was sleep deprived,” said Shane. “I mean, it was, but that’s just… impulse control. I’d probably have tried to do it while being super drunk and awkward, but it was just… a little quicker than I planned.”

He laughed, then cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact.

Fuck. 

He was cocking this all up.

“Sort out your weird… sleep thing first, and then we’ll talk,” said Ryan. 

“Can I… can I kiss you? Like, right now?”

“You mean before you’ve even taken me on a date?”

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

Shane blushed.

“Sorry.”

“I’m teasing,” Ryan said, and he looked nervous now. “I mean, uh… if you really want to, I guess? Are you sure it’s not the sleep deprivation talking?”

“I got more sleep than you normally do,” said Shane. 

“Well, yes, but still,” said Ryan. “Sleep debt, remember?” 

“So no kiss?” 

“I mean,” said Ryan, “is this… is this some kind of experiment?”

“I don’t think it is,” said Shane. “If… if it is, then I swear on every fucking piece of my everything, you can… I don’t know, I’ll buy you dinner for a month. For a year. For….”

And then Ryan was leaning forward, and Ryan was kissing him.

Ryan was kissing him like something out of a romance novel - full on soul kissing, and it was only slightly hampered by the fact that his laptop nearly fell off his lap, and he had to break the kiss to grab the laptop and place it to the side.

Ryan was looking at him with a slightly dazed expression.

“Now _you_ look sleep deprived,” said Shane, and he grinned, just a bit, because he could.

He was gibbering in the back of his mind.

Um.

And then Ryan was putting his own laptop aside, and Ryan was just… climbing into his lap, Ryan was leaning in and kissing him, his hands on Shane’s face, and some of the exhaustion was still weighing him down, and he let himself be pressed into the couch, let himself be held, let himself be kissed.

It was, admittedly, novel.

Ryan was taller than Shane was used to kissing, and Ryan was more, well… built, but he kissed like something out of a movie, and it was… it was sweet.

It was good.

It was rougher than Shane expected, with Ryan’s stubble, and Shane pulled back, cupping Ryan’s face.

“Um,” said Shane.

“Um?”

Ryan was looking at Shane’s face, and it was… searching.

“Second thoughts?”

“No,” said Shane, and he traced a finger over the line of Ryan’s jaw. “Just… taking in the differences.”

“I’m probably a bit more muscley than your last girlfriend.”

“I’ve known some muscley girls in my time,” said Shane, and his hands ran along Ryan’s back, feeling the muscles of his back, the knobs of his spine.

“Yeah? Maybe that was a sign.”

Again, that searching look.

“Maybe,” said Shane, and then he was leaning in, kissing some more, and he was… fuck it, go for the goddamn gold.

He grabbed Ryan’s ass, and Ryan made a surprised noise against Shane’s mouth, and then an idea popped into his head, out of his mouth, and into the air.

“Let me suck your cock,” he said to Ryan.

“What.”

Not even a question mark. 

Ryan just… gabbled at him.

“Your cock. Let me suck your cock.”

“... why?”

“I want to,” Shane said, and he _did_ , he realized.

He’d never thought about it in detail, but… well, now he was thinking about it.

Now he was very much thinking it. 

… sort of.

He wanted… he was seized with an intense, manic _wanting_ , and he didn’t know what it was.

He was still tired, he was still… what was he?

He was kissing Ryan, he was pushing Ryan back, and then he was pushing Ryan even further back onto his back, until Ryan was flat on his back on the couch, looking up at Shane with those gorgeous eyes of his.

Okay.

This was familiar. 

This was something he knew how to do.

There weren’t any breasts, but he could… he could still grope Ryan’s chest, kiss down it, and then Ryan paused, looking down at him, his expression rueful.

“I was like that my first time, too,” he said.

“Like what?”

“This awkward,” said Ryan.

“How am I being awkward?” 

Shane was halfway to indignant, as his hand went lower, to grope at Ryan’s hips. 

Ryan squirmed, and his legs spread wider, one foot on the floor. 

“You’re used to boobs,” said Ryan, and he groped awkwardly at Shane’s chest, the way Shane had. 

“So how do I do it instead?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Ryan, and then he was… taking Shane’s hand, and moving it slowly downwards.

_Um_.

Ryan was watching Shane, and Shane looked down at his own hand, and then… let himself be led.

He held Ryan’s cock in his hand, through Ryan’s jeans, and Ryan shuddered, a full bodied shudder.

His cock twitched under Shane’s hand.

“You… don’t know how much I’ve thought about this,” said Ryan, and his voice cracked.

“Have you?”

“Oh yeah,” said Ryan. “I… I like you. I like you a lot. You’re hot. I’ve wanted to… i’ve wanted to touch you for a long time. To be touched by you.”

“Now you’re babbling,” said Shane. “Good return to form.”

He was exploring along Ryan’s shaft with the tips of his fingers, gently.

Ryan’s pants weren’t that tight, and Ryan’s underwear was keeping Ryan’s cock closer to his body, but… still.

It was there.

Shane was touching a penis.

Touching a penis that wasn’t his. 

This was… this was weird, but god, it was heady.

His heart was beating very fast, as he sat up a bit more, and just… unbuttoned Ryan’s pants, unzipped them.

He pushed Ryan’s underwear down, and he slid his hand into it, to find… skin.

Hot skin.

Familiar skin. 

Skin like his own skin, but not. 

It was… it was a lot.

It was a lot to take in, it was a lot to wrap his head around in the first place, but at the same time, it was… it was hot, it was throbbing in his hand, and when he gave it a nervous stroke, Ryan shuddered. 

“Oh,” Ryan said.

Shane sat up further, and he freed Ryan’s cock, and... there it was.

It was a penis.

It was cut, it was wet with pre, and the head was flush and purple.

“Didn’t realize how much you were into this,” Shane said, keeping his tone calm. 

“How would you feel if the person you’ve had a crush on - who had an heretofore incompatible orientation - somehow came on to you, said that they were interested in you, after a downright bizarre night….”

“So I should stay up for days and days on end again, to replicate the experience?”

“No, no, I’m all for making new experiences,” Ryan said quickly.

“Experiences like… this?”

Shane intended to be smooth.

Intended to lean down, take the head of Ryan’s cock into his mouth, and unleash his inner cocksucker, who would no doubt be brilliant at it, considering how many times he’d been called one over the course of his life.

Instead, he banged his forehead into Ryan’s chest, which made Ryan groan, curl forward.

“Jesus christ, what the fuck, Shane.”

“Sorry,” Shane said, rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, _sorry_.” 

“It’s fine,” said Ryan, and now he was laughing. “Oh my god, Shane. You… you colossal blockhead.”

Shane was also laughing, because… well, how could he not.

“At least you’re not wearing a bra for me to fuck up?”

“At this point in your career, you’d still be fumbling with bras?”

“Don’t ever underestimate my ability to be incompetent,” said Shane, and then he was leaning down again, but this time, with more luck. 

He took Ryan’s cock into his mouth, clumsily, but he did it.

It tasted… well, it tasted like skin. 

Skin, a little bit of salt, and when he took it a little deeper, Ryan moaned. 

“Fuck,” said Ryan. “Oh… fuck.”

Shane took that as a good sign, although now he was a bit stuck.

What did he… do.

Okay. 

He’d received a blowjob before.

He knew what he liked.

It was harder, from this end.

Okay, he could do this.

Okay.

He bobbed his head, and held the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue along the tip, then jabbing the tip of it into the slit.

Ryan shuddered, and his hand was on top of Shane’s head.

“Yeah, like… like that,” he said. “You can… you can try to take a little more, if you’d like. Yeah, like that. Just… like… fuck, Shane….”

_So this shuts him up. Good to know._

Shane was grinning, just a bit, even as he took it deeper into his mouth, tears dripping down his face, because his gag reflex was acting up, but… oh, that was good. 

He sucked harder, he began to seriously bob his head, and he slurped, he… god, he felt like he was in a porno.

This would have been easier if he had done this while Ryan was sitting down, come to think of it.

He was drooling down his own chin, and it was puddling into the crotch of Ryan’s underwear, and then to Ryan’s pubic hair, and Ryan was beginning to shift his hips.

“You doing okay there, big guy?”

Shane pulled back, wiping his mouth, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’s pretty cool,” Shane said. 

“Oh my god,” said Ryan, and his voice cracked.

He was cackling. 

“What? What, you didn’t want me to give an honest answer?”

“I mean, I did,” said Ryan, “just… wow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Shane. “I bet you were great and sexy giving _your_ first blowjob.”

“Oh, no, I sneezed and got jizz out of my nose,” said Ryan.

“Oh my god,” said Shane. “I’m amazed you’re willing to do anything with a dick after all of that.”

“This guy had a really great dick,” said Ryan, his expression wistful. Then it got a little sad. “Just about the only good thing about him.”

“Hopefully I measure up better,” Shane said, his tone solemn.

He wrapped his hand around Ryan’s cock, stroking it in his fist, and Ryan humped into it, shuddering. 

“Fuck,” Ryan said. “I mean, you… you l-l-listen to the spirit box with me, at least.”

“So spirit box and blowjobs are what it takes to win you over. Got it.”

And then Shane was leaning down again, and he was sucking again, careful with his teeth, careful with his everything, as he bobbed his head, and there were hands in his hair.

He sucked cock.

He was sucking cock. 

Shane Madej was sucking cock, and it was hot and thick against his tongue, and the noises that Ryan was making were enough that Shane’s own cock was twitching in the sweat pants he’d worn today (why wear real pants, when he wasn’t gonna leave the house?), and Ryan was beginning to shake.

Shane Madej was sucking cock, and even he could tell he wasn’t the best at giving blowjobs, but… well, Ryan’s cock was swelling in his mouth, and Ryan’s belly was beginning to flex, his thighs going tight and hard on either side of Shane’s head.

“I’m gonna cum, Shane, I’m just… I’m gonna, fuck, Shane, fuck!”

Shane pulled off of Ryan’s cock, and he shoved Ryan’s shirt up in one motion, as Ryan jerked himself off desperately, his hips jerking up.

Shane wrapped his hand around Ryan’s, and the both of them milked Ryan’s cock, until Ryan let go, and he was shaking.

“Fuck,” Ryan said.

“So I did good?”

“You did great,” said Ryan, and then his expression was… thoughtful. “Want me to return the favor?”

“I mean, uh, you don’t have to,” Shane said, and his voice was a little rough. “If you don’t want to. If you’d rather… if you’d rather, uh….since it’s still in early days and -”

“Shane, you literally have my jizz on your hand.”

“So I do,” said Shane, looking down at his hand. “Huh.”

“You seem remarkably unphased, for a guy who thought he was straight… like, yesterday.”

“I think we’ve hit the two day period at this point,” said Shane. 

Ryan raised an eyebrow, and Shane softened. 

“I’m… I mean, none of this feels weird, or feels… wrong, or anything like that. It just feels… I dunno. It’s not any different from you and me watching a movie, or hanging out watching a basketball game, or… whatever. It’s just… sweatier.” 

“I thought you hated basketball games,” said Ryan. 

“I don’t hate them,” said Shane. “They’re just… boring.”

“So what, the prospect of me giving you a blowjob is boring?”

“I didn’t say it was boring,” Shane said quickly, but Ryan was… getting on the floor, oh, god, and he was pulling Shane’s legs down around, so that Shane’s knees were on his shoulders. 

“You said that a basketball game was boring. I guess I’ll just have to make it more interesting, huh?” 

Ryan waggled his eyebrows, and Shane burst out laughing.

“Are you trying to be seductive?”

“Something like that,” said Ryan, and then he paused. “Although I’m about to ask you something not seductive. When was the last time you washed your butt?”

“Like, an hour ago, when I showered?”

Shane had been slow to shower, but gotten to it… eventually. 

“Okay, good,” said Ryan, and then he was pulling Shane’s sweats down, with his underwear, and there was an awkward moment of getting it all off, and then… Shane was naked, from the waist down.

Holy shit. 

Ryan was just… looking at him, and Shane flushed.

“I’m sorry,” Shane said, and he cleared his throat.

“For what?”

Ryan was licking his lips, even as he adjusted, wrapping a hand around Shane’s cock. 

God, his hand was… good.

It was squeezing, it was… hot, it was stroking Shane’s cock, and it was enough to make Shane’s hips roll forwards. 

“I don’t know, this is just… you’re seeing more of me than you usually do,” said Shane, and then Shane was… being pulled further off of the couch, his ass hanging off precariously, Ryan keeping him in place. 

Fuck, Ryan was strong. 

Shane’s cock twitched - he’d never been with someone who could just manhandle him like this.

That was novel.

“Remind me your thoughts on weird butt stuff,” said Ryan.

“What counts as weird butt stuff?”

“Just, uh… ever had your ass eaten?”

“... can’t say I have, no,” said Shane. 

“You want me to?”

“It’ll be less boring than basketball,” said Shane. 

“Oh my fucking god, Shane,” said Ryan, and then he leaned in, and he licked Shane, from asshole to ballsack.

Oh _god_.

Fuck, that made Shane’s eyes roll back in his head, and he thrashed like a goddamn fish.

“Mm?”

“Please don’t stop doing that,” Shane said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Ryan, and his breath was warm, puffing against Shane’s hole, and that was… god, Shane’s toes were curling, his cock twitching harder.

Ryan’s tongue was inside of Shane’s ass, and that was… that was weird.

That was more than a little weird, but… god, Shane was willing to put up with weird, and his hands were in his own hair, twisting it around and around, because fuck, he… he wanted to put his hands in Ryan’s hair, he wanted to… he didn’t even know what he wanted, except he wanted it to keep happening.

His eyes were rolling back into his head.

Fuck. 

His cock twisted and twitched against his belly, and he kept shaking, he kept just taking it and taking it, kept letting the pleasure roll over him like a wave.

It was… it was weird, and then Ryan was reaching up, to jerk him off, and oh god, that was… that was very good.

Fuck.

He was losing his ability to think coherently, and fuck but it was perfect, it was so fucking perfect, and he hadn’t even known he’d needed this in his life, but god _damn_ was it good.

Was it… fuck.

The pleasure and the tension in his gut was building and building, faster than it had any right to, he was digging his heels into Ryan’s lower back and he was making very undignified noises, and he was… sobbing?

Was he crying?

When the fuck had that happened?

How did he make it _stop_?

But he was sobbing, and he was gasping up to his ceiling as he just… came, the pressure broke like a bone, warmth filling him, covering him, as he shot his load onto his stomach, onto his shirt, and Ryan was still doing whatever he was doing, milking Shane’s cock, until he was pulling off, looking faintly smug.

“Do you usually go off that quickly?”

“I dunno,” Shane said, dazed. “We’ll have to test it.”

“You and your scientific method,” Ryan said, and he looked amused.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Shane said, and then he yawned so widely that his jaw cracked. “But… f-f-first, wash your mouth, please.”

And then he was letting his eyes slide closed, as exhaustion just crashed over him like a curtain. 

He barely managed to shuffle back onto his couch (more or less), before he was dead asleep.

* * *

Shane woke up to sunlight on his face, sitting up and blinking.

“What… happened?” 

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Ryan said, from Shane’s favorite chair.

He was wearing one of Shane’s shirts, and that sent a little bit of a thrill through Shane’s belly. 

“What time is it?”

“About one thirty in the afternoon,” said Ryan.

Shane sat up, stretched, and made a face - there was dried cum on his shirt, and he wasn’t wearing any pants. 

“It can’t be. We already had one.”

“No, you just slept, like, ten hours,” said Ryan. 

“Huh,” said Shane.

The exhaustion that had been eating him alive was gone, that was true.

His head hurt a little bit, and his face was stiff with… dried tears.

Oh god, he’d been crying.

“I guess I just really needed you to fuck me, to get me to sleep,” said Shane, and he stretched.

“Oh my god, Shane,” said Ryan, and he looked amused. “You think that’s the actual thing that happened with David and what’s his face?”

“... y’know, I could believe it,” said Shane. “Why don’t you, uh… show me some of your harp playing skills again, soon?”

Ryan gave him a Look, but he was grinning. 

Shane grinned back.

This was going… someplace.

Someplace new, someplace theoretically scary, but hey.

At least Shane would be well rested.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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